


Pooka, A Good Girl

by CrowKing



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Sad, Sad One Shot, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22378522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowKing/pseuds/CrowKing
Summary: Ramsay Bolton's journey with his favorite girl.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Pooka, A Good Girl

She wasn’t like the rest of the hounds. She was smaller, weaker, and not fit for the North. She struggled to feed on her own. Roose handed her off to Ramsay, his bastard, and instructed him to shoot her out in the woods.

“Only the strongest survive,” Roose said. “She’ll die in the cold anyways.” Ramsay carried the small ball of fluff into the deep woods and set her down. She looked down into the snow and started licking it. Ramsay aimed his arrow at her body, and then the most incredible thing happened.

Ramsay had shot rabbits, deer, and other small animals for fun. He enjoyed it. This should be fun, right? She did not run. The little pup looked up to Ramsay, hoping he would be impressed by her discovery of the ice on the forest floor. He lowered his arrow and observed her. She got up and trotted over to Ramsay’s side. Taking sniffs of the arrow tip and looking up at Ramsay for approval.

Ramsay rose his arrow at her again. He grunted. He had instructions to follow. He’s killed bigger animals than her. Stronger ones too. She sat and stuck her tongue out at him. Ramsay took aim and his eyes looked into hers. Her big brown eyes had so much life in them, so much potential. So much opportunity to turn her into something strong. 

So much opportunity to keep her alive.

“Oh fuck me,” Ramsay lowered his arrow and picked up the happy girl. Ramsay kept dogs, but his father was right. The runts were not worth keeping. They usually die off in the cold which was why Ramsay snuck her inside his chambers and kept her by the fire. He woke up the next day with her on his bed, snuggling next to him. He rolled his eyes, walked her, and started her training.

“Sit!” Ramsay commanded. She didn’t sit right away, but waited for the meaty bites inside Ramsay’s pocket. “Come on, girl. Sit!” The commanded proved useless when she turned to clean herself.

“She needs to learn her name,” Roose told him. 

“Her name?”

“How can you teach anyone anything if you don’t address them by their name? You don’t yell at your soldiers to do everything you say. You give them respect.”

“I thought you wanted her dead,” Ramsay tilted his head towards his father. 

“I wanted you dead,” Roose reminded him. “But I raised you and look at you now. Name her after Winterfell.” The pup sneezed as a response.

One of Roose’s men rushed over to him with a grand smile on his face. “My lord! My lord! You won’t believe this! We have found extra stores of food! We are more than prepared for Stannis’ army if he decides to siege us.” Ramsay took another look at her. 

“You give out good fortune, don’t you little one?” Ramsay smiled.

“What do you mean?” Roose reacted. 

“When she sneezed this morning, the good weather fared well for a hunt.”

“Something good that happened twice doesn’t mean a pattern. You know that,” Roose smiled. Ramsay shook his head. He knew better than his father how magic worked.

“Her name is Pooka, my good, lucky girl. Here, Pooka!” Ramsay called after her and she followed him. Her paws made tracks in the dirty snow mud as she trotted. Ramsay turned out to be right. Whenever Pooka sneezed, something good followed. Ramsay found small amounts of money, good weather, and more often than not he captured his prey faster.

When Pooka became a young lady, she accompanied Ramsay everywhere he went. She would hunt after Ramsay’s prey, both human and animal. She ate next to Ramsay and was used to train the other dogs. Every night, she crawled onto his bed and slept next to Ramsay. Ramsay would always roll his eyes and smile.

Except when one of Ramsay’s lovers shared the bed, then Ramsay would try to push Pooka off. Unless Myranda was around. Myranda would push Ramsay off the bed. Pooka really liked Myranda.

“You’re like me. You have your favorite people, but you don’t like people,” Myranda said while feeding Pooka underneath tree one afternoon. Pooka’s thick fur kept her and Myranda warm. Her ears perked up at any threatening sound. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. You dad’s just training for Stannis.”

Both girls watched Ramsay swing a sword not too far away from them. Pooka sneezed.

“I agree. You dad needs all the luck he can get. Poor fellow will never be as good as Robb Stark,” Myranda said. She gave Pooka another bite of chicken. “And you’ll never be a direwolf, but you’re still the best girl. We don’t need to be big and strong to overcome the enemy. We just need to be smart is all.”

Pooka’s sneeze helped the Boltons with their defeat of Stannis. While Roose gave the victory to his men and Ramsay’s strategic plan, Ramsay and Myranda celebrated the victory privately with Pooka. The trio picked a warm corner and held Pooka’s puppies for the first time. The truth was, Ramsay never needed popularity or the company of a room full of men.  
He only needed tiny kisses to his face to make him smile. Even Myranda, who always kept her guard up, let Pooka’s puppies sniff and explore her hair. Myranda started giggling because of the tickling sensations. Ramsay caught on and started laughing himself. Both wrangled up the puppies for the new mom and left her be while she fed them. Ramsay and Myranda sat together and watched.

“When is Roose going to realize that there’s five new dogs in the kennels?” Myranda asked.

“I doubt he’ll care how many dogs are in the kennels. Your father will,” Ramsay added.

“If I tell him that they’re Pooka’s puppies, he won’t touch them.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because he knows Pooka’s your favorite.”

“Pooka’s not—

Pooka gave Ramsay a very judgmental look and she narrowed her eyes at him. Ramsay held up his hands.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “You are absolutely right. You are my favorite.” Pooka’s attention returned to her pups, giving Ramsay a ‘damn right’ sniff. As she grew older, Pooka settled down more. She slept longer hours, she got heavier and lazier. Soon, she was retired as one of Ramsay’s hunting girls. 

Still, Ramsay spent his private time with her. Ramsay’s children grew up with Pooka protecting them by his side. His wife, Sansa Stark, warmed up to the good girl on her own. Sansa would be often found scratching her ears and taking her on walks. It brought back memories of her direwolf, Lady, who was killed when she was young.

“Good lady!” squealed little Robb when Pooka licked his chubby cheeks. Little Robb’s hair of reds and browns matches Pooka’s own fur. The heir to Winterfell would grab handfuls of her fur to steady him and his lame leg. Still, the pair were inseparable.

Where Ramsay and Sansa would spoil their son to bits and bits, Robb would spoil Pooka. He would share his dinners with her. He would give her treats without doing any tricks. He would rub her belly by the fire for an hour or more. Then Pooka would sneeze, and Robb would guess The Good Thing That Would Happen Soon.

“Momma?” Robb said.

“What do you think will happen this time?” Sansa asked. Ramsay listened in, remembering the first time he discovered Pooka’s quirk.

“Lemon cakes for dinner?” Robb’s face lit up. Both parents smiled and laughed at the idea at the same time. Sansa looked at her husband, feeling complicated over their marriage. “I was thinking Robb could use a sibling.”

“You’re pregnant? Again?” Ramsay said, more surprised than anything.

“Yes, that typically a things that happens when two people share a bed for a long amount of time.”

“Why is it that you and bastard brother always point out the obvious in the most annoying way?” Ramsay scoffed. Jon Snow, who heard Ramsay’s bastard comment, entered the room.

“Why are you such a grumpy person?” Jon asked of Ramsay. Ramsay sat back and looked at Jon up and down.

“The kettle calling the pot—

“Both of you are ruining my news,” Sansa told them, laughing. 

Soon, Pooka had a new friend, Catelyn. Robb and Catelyn loved Pooka so much that some of her fur lost the red-brown color. Grey hairs appeared around her eyes and feet. She walked much slower and leaned on Robb to help her walk.

She spent more time by the fire sleeping than she did doing anything else.

One morning, she stopped eating. That’s when Robb ran to his father. And that’s when Ramsay picked her body up and carried her into the woods. Robb followed his father, eye brows knitted.

“What’s wrong with her? Is Pooka gonna be okay?”

“Yes, she’ll be okay soon. We have to say goodbye to her first, ok?” Ramsay told his little one. Robb nodded. Their boots crunched through the snow. Pooka’s labored breathing was the only sound Ramsay could hear.

“Why is she breathing like that?” Robb asked. Ramsay knew exactly what to tell his son. Roose told him the same thing when Ramsay’s first dog died.

Ramsay set Pooka down in the forest ground. Little blue flowers peeked out from the hard, cold ground. It looked as if Nature herself had decorated Pooka’s final crown. Ramsay ushered his oldest child to come close to him.

“Winter is calling for her,” he explained. “One day it will call for me and then you, but not now.”

“Is Winter going to take Pooka away?” Robb started to choke up. A little tear formed in his eye. Ramsay smiled sadly and looked at his good girl one last time. Her breathing had slowed down.

“Winter is going to take her to a new home,” Ramsay stroked Pooka’s ears. His full attention was on her as she slipped away from the world. “She was a very good girl. She was my good girl.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Usually, I write smutty fics or dark fics with Ramsay. I would like to dedicate this fanfiction to my childhood dog, Peanut Butter, who passed away this last summer. I loved him so much. He was a very good boy to a very sad and lonely teenage Crow. He deserves so much more than one fanfiction. I miss him a lot. So, again thank you for reading this "love letter" to dog-lovers everywhere.


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